


warms me up

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2016-2017 NHL Season, 5+1 Things, Coffee, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, living your childhood dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:59:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: 5 times Auston brings Mitch coffee, +1 time Mitch brings it to Auston





	warms me up

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you know anyone mentioned in the tags above, please, click away! This is a work of fanfiction and not representative of the real people mentioned in this fic in any way whatsoever
> 
> A very fluffy piece that was written when I tried to cut back on caffeine for a week, and I missed it a lot. 
> 
> THANK YOU to the incredible ftc for giving this a read and catching my numerous typos! Also, this timeline is fairly accurate, and the games/goals mentioned (and the broken pane of glass) did happen!

 

**1.**

It’s Wednesday when Auston Matthews shows up for training camp, and he’s quiet when he gets there. He’s awkwardly holding two cups of coffee, and keeps looking at the ground, and he just seems so shy that Mitch makes it his business to put him at ease.

Mitch has met Matthews before, but he didn’t go to rookie camp, and Mitch– well, he isn’t angry, per se, even though the whole World Cup thing seemed pretty dope. Both of them have a lot to prove, but in different ways. Mitch is still struggling to stand out, but even though Auston has the spotlight, Mitch can’t say he’s jealous. First-overall to the franchise that needs you can be fucking brutal. 

“Hey,” Mitch says. “Early morning?” He nods at the coffee in Auston’s hands. 

Auston shrugs. “They gave me two by accident, I think, and then they told me to just keep them both, so…” his voice trails off. 

“I’ll take one off your hands, then,” Mitch says. “It’s early as shit.”

Auston smiles at him “What a kind favor.” 

“Hey, bribing me with coffee isn’t a bad idea. You might want to get in good with me, you know. I know everything there is to know about Toronto.”

“Yeah?” Auston says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Born and raised, bud. I can tell you where to get the best french fries in the city. Isn’t that information you’ll want access to?” 

Auston smiles at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Mitch, as a rule, tries not to think about the future, or what he needs to show he can do. Sometimes to the point where it’s, like, counterproductive, but sometimes it’s the only way he can just stay loose and play his game. But through all the nerves, there’s a tiny bud of hope. He’s here, he’s at the Leafs training camp, playing the best sport for his favorite team, and he just– 

He wants to go back in time, like, two or three years, and tell his past self that this is his reality. That he gets to be doing this. That sometimes, after practice, he’s hit with this feeling that this is something he can  _ do,  _ that he’s ready for the NHL, and that he  _ can  _ earn his spot on the roster, or at least a few games of ice time. 

And that he watched the phenom that is Auston Matthews play in the World Cup and wondered if they’d be playing  _ together.  _ And maybe Mitch didn’t go first overall, but he went fourth, which was no small feat. Maybe– maybe this could be a really, really good year for them. Maybe this new team will be something to be proud of. 

He takes the coffee from Auston’s hand and takes a long sip, and it feels bitter, but warm, and everything’s a bit clearer. 

Later that day, Auston shatters a pane of glass off a one-timer from Mitch. It’s a pretty terrible shot, but Mitch thinks of it as a sign of good things to come, anyway.

* * *

 

**2.**

Mitch gets his first goal while his parents are in the crowd– well, his mom is apparently in the bathroom, but he scores his first career NHL goal in his home city, and he feels like he’s on top of the world. 

His celly is a bit out of control, but it’s just… this is the dream. This is what every Toronto boy fantasizes about, growing up, and fuck, this is the moment every kid wishes for the first time they lace up their skates, probably. It’s also a rite of passage for every guy in the league, and holy shit, this is his life. He’s playing hockey for the Toronto Maple Leafs, and he just scored his first-ever NHL goal. 

It’s not quite the same as Auston’s four, but it’s pretty fucking sweet. 

They win the game against the Bruins, and no one even asks before they all go out to celebrate. Mitch gets fucking trashed, because that’s also apparently a rite of passage.

“Nice job, kid,” Marty says, ruffling his hair a bit, and Naz insists that they do shots, and this is Mitch’s team, these are his teammates. It’s not just his night– it’s also Freddy’s, and Brownie’s, and kind of James’ too. It’s just a big night to celebrate.

Auston sits down next to him.

“Dude,” says Auston, and he’s drunk too, and Mitch can’t stop smiling. 

“Dude,” Mitch says back, and then he starts laughing. 

“Fucking beauty, man,” Auston says. “But your celly was the dumbest shit.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mitch says, but he’s still laughing. “You weren’t any better.” 

Auston shrugs. “Fine. But seriously, man, good fuckin’ game.” 

“We do good stuff, this team,” Mitch says proudly, because he’s a rookie, but he’s also a lifelong fan, and he’s happy they won for a lot of reasons, alright? “Really good shit.” 

Someone says there are more shots to do, and, well, team rules. 

Mitch kind of fucking hates team rules when he wakes up the next day with a killer headache on someone’s couch. At first he’s confused, but he remembers talking about not wanting to sneak in drunk, because his mom would be mad, and then he remembers an Uber, and James was there– which, yeah, this is James’ apartment– but he thinks there might have been someone else too. 

“Hey,” a voice says from behind him, and Mitch turns around to see Auston, holding a mug in his hand. “JVR went for a run. I, uh, made a pot of coffee, in case you want.” 

Mitch definitely  _ does  _ want. He also notices that Auston’s hair is messier than he’s seen it before– sleep-rumpled, and it’s kind of landing in his face, and it’s–  _ cute _ , Mitch thinks.  _ Auston’s pretty cute.  _

He stops thinking about that, and instead, focuses on the coffee, and also on trying not to puke, because that would probably be rude. 

“Thanks,” Mitch says, and he tries to remember the last time he drank that much. After Ottawa, they’d gone out, but he’d kept it down to mildly tipsy, figuring that getting trashed their first time out as a team probably wasn’t the greatest idea. Maybe it was in London, he thinks. 

“No problem,” Auston says back. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Awful,” Mitch says. “My head is trying to pound its way out of my skull.” 

Auston gives him a sympathetic look. “I’ll ask James about some Advil or something when he gets back,” he says. “Coffee helping?”

“Oh man, you don’t even know,” Mitch says, taking a long sip. “How about you , though?” 

“I wasn’t as far gone as you last night,” Auston says. “I’m fine.” 

“Fuck, man, I envy you,” Mitch says. Some clouds move, and all of a sudden there’s a glare off of something on the coffee table, and it hurts his eyes _ ,  _ so Mitch ducks under the blanket, and Auston laughs, loud and bright. 

“I’m glad you find my pain funny,” Mitch says, still hiding under the blanket. 

“I’ll close the blinds for you,” Auston says. 

“You’re an angel,” Mitch says, and he emerges once he feels the light in the room settle down again, immediately grabbing the mug again. It’s still hot. 

“We have practice today,” Auston says, and Mitch groans as Auston laughs again. 

* * *

 

**3.**

It’s just– the Centennial Classic is a big deal, right? It should, in theory, just be another fun outdoor hockey game, but it’s so fucking  _ special  _ for Mitch, and it’s one of those moments where he realizes he’s living his dream. There have been a lot of those, this year. 

It’s in Toronto, and they’re playing the Red Wings. They’re wearing the special gear, which is, Mitch reluctantly admits to himself, the reason for games like this in the first place, but it’s nice stuff– the hats, the sweaters, all of it. He feels all abuzz, because this is a regular season game that someone decided should be made special, and it’s a really fun thing to play in something like that.

He and Auston have plans to take the bus over, and Auston meets him at the bus stop with two cups of coffee in his hands. 

“You’re saving me here, man,” Mitch says appreciatively. 

“You can get yourself coffee, you know,” Auston says. 

“Yeah, but I like it better when you do it,” Mitch says. “Plus, I don’t wanna, like, need a cup every day.”

“What’s wrong with a cup of coffee every day?” Auston asks, sounding genuinely curious. 

Mitch can only shrug. “I dunno. Anyway, doesn’t count as a caffeine addiction if I only drink it when you give it it to me,” Mitch says. 

“You’re wrong,” Auston says. “Also, happy new year, dude.”

“Shit, yeah,” Mitch says. “Bring it in, man,” and before he can think about it, he’s pulling Auston in for a hug. 

Mitch is a hugger; Auston knows this. Auston isn’t as much of a hugger, but he doesn’t seem to mind when Mitch hugs him. Especially if the occasion calls for it. Right now, he hugs back, and Mitch notices how warm he feels, his arms squeezing Mitch tight, even though they’re both trying not to spill coffee right now. It’s a damn good hug, and Mitch has hugged a lot of people. 

He wonders if Auston would mind… well, Mitch doesn’t know exactly what. He kind of wants to cuddle up to Auston, but he refrains. 

At the game, Mitch gets a goal, but Auston gets two, including the OT winner, because of course he does. It doesn’t even cross Mitch’s mind to be jealous until later, because they  _ won.  _ It feels like a part of history. Mitch thinks about kids across Canada, watching the game, and, well, of course he isn’t jealous. He’s  _ there.  _

* * *

**4.**

The coffee isn’t a superstition. It’s just… a thing they do. 

Mitch’s mom offers to start making enough for him, and Mitch feels a bit too awkward to say no, but he never finishes it before he leaves the house, and Auston always meets him at his car with an extra cup anyway. She stops afterwards, telling him she’s getting jittery from the extra caffeine, and he feels bad. But it’s his thing with Auston, even though he really can’t explain that to his mom. 

Then, one day, Willy asks for a sip. Mitch hands over the cup and watches him take a sip and then make a face. 

“Is there any milk or sugar in this? Like, at all?” Willy asks. 

Mitch shakes his head. “Nah.” 

“Dude, why?” Willy asks. 

“Ask Matts, man, he grabbed it for me this morning.” 

“Cute,” Willy says, and Mitch is a little embarrassed by that, even though he shouldn’t be. It’s just Auston, and he’s just him, and it’s just coffee.

He glances over at Auston, who’s smiling a bit at it, so Mitch figures it’s no big deal when he throws an arm around Auston and says “Yep, we sure are.” 

Auston and Willy both laugh, and for a second, Mitch wonders if at some point, he and Auston went a little too far. If they have, it was probably a while ago; maybe the matching outfits, Mitch thinks. But he likes this, and for all Auston leaves him confused most days, their friendship is something dependable. Mitch drives them around, Auston brings the coffee, and they have their game and their team and that’s what matters. 

Auston returns Mitch’s weird side hug and lingers for a bit, his hand on Mitch’s waist, and his fingers squeeze just a little bit. 

Mitch thinks that maybe they should talk about this. 

Instead, on their way to Auston’s car after practice, Mitch blurts out, “you don’t mind bringing me coffee, right?” 

Auston blinks. “Of course not.”

“Okay, good because you don’t– you don’t have to,” he says. “I mean, I like it, but you really don’t.” 

Auston shakes his head. “I want to, I promise. Uh, do you– is the coffee, like, good?” 

“I mean, yeah, why?” 

Auston shrugs. “I can add milk and sugar, if you want,” he says. 

Mitch smiles. “Nah, I’ve gotten used to it this way. What you’re doing is good, man,” he says. 

So the coffee–  it’s just a thing they do. 

* * *

**5.**

Mitch is drunk, but not that drunk. Auston, on the other hand, is wasted. 

They’re at a bar in Nashville, and it’s a fun city, Mitch thinks. But he’s tired, like, so fucking tired, and someone should probably stop Auston from drinking more, because he’s not, like, in danger or anything, but he probably doesn’t want to be hungover tomorrow, and he’s starting to get kind of sloppy. 

For instance, he’s kind of… draped all over Mitch right now. 

Which, like, Mitch doesn’t mind at all, really; he’s much more affectionate than this when he’s drunk, though not quite as physical about it. Mostly he just tells the guys he loves them, and he’s so happy to be on this team, and they laugh about it but seem to love him right back. 

“You good there, man?” Mitch asks. 

Auston nods, and Mitch sees that his eyes are open. “It’s good. I love hockey.”

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “Same here.” 

“I know!” Auston half-slurs. “You’re really fucking good at it.”

Mitch laughs at that. “Thanks, man, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

Auston smiles up at him, all warm and happy, and Mitch finds himself thinking about hot coffee in the middle of winter, steam rising into his face. 

“I’m gonna head out,” Mitch says. 

“I can– can I come with you?” Auston asks, and Mitch nods.

“I’ll call an Uber back to the hotel,” he says. “Wanna switch rooms with Hymie for the night?”

Auston nods, and once they clear it with Zach, they make their way back to the hotel. 

When they get there, Auston collapses onto the bed. “I love hockey,” he says again, and Mitch sits down next to him. 

“You’ve mentioned that,” Mitch says, smiling. 

“It’s just– it’s really cool,” Auston says. “Man, we’re in the NHL. That’s wild.” 

“You’ve played professional hockey before,” Mitch points out, and Auston shrugs. 

“It’s not the same, though. I thought– I dunno. People would be mad at me, or whatever,” he says. 

“Why?” Mitch asks, though not entirely disbelieving– Toronto can be a mean place. He thinks about what some of the guys on the team went through, what he  _ saw  _ them go through as he read article after article, and wonders how he would react if the city turned on him like that. 

“It’s– it’s a lot. First overall, American kid, and like, Arizona,” he says. “I dunno. It’s– there’s a lot. You get it, I guess,” Auston says. 

“Kinda,” says Mitch. 

“But– there are a bunch of us,” Auston says. “It’s– I thought it would be just me? But like, it’s all of us. And– you know. Us,” Auston says, gesturing between the two of them. “I’m– I’m glad we’re not alone.”

“I am too,” Mitch says, and he sort of grabs Auston’s hand without thinking about it. 

Auston looks up at him, and Mitch almost lets go when he sees that Auston’s face looks nervous, but then Auston speaks.

“Can– can you play with my hair?” he asks, and of course Mitch says yes to that. Auston puts his head in Mitch’s lap and Mitch carefully runs his fingers through, and Auston relaxes into it, and this is one of those moments that Mitch wouldn’t give up for anything. It’s not like the rest of it, which seems too good to be true– this just seems real, and kind of beautiful. 

Auston’s head eventually begins to feel heavy in Mitch’s lap, and Mitch should probably wake him up and make sure he changes into pajamas and drinks water before bed. 

“Hey,” Mitch says, nudging him. “Dude, wake up. I’m gonna get you some water, alright? Change into something comfortable,” Mitch says, because he’s kind of a mom-friend when he needs to be. 

“Mm?” Auston says, and Mitch can’t help but smile again. “Mitch?” 

“Yeah?” Mitch says. 

“I think I’m–” Auston sits up, and looks Mitch right in the eye, and Mitch doesn’t really know what to say, so he’s quiet. 

“I–” Auston says, and then he frowns, leans forward, and kisses Mitch. 

Which– whoa. Mitch didn’t see this coming, and there’s a lot they should be talking about, but right now, Auston’s kissing him and really, really drunk, and Mitch doesn’t really know what to do, so he just kind of stays there, frozen. 

Auston pulls away after a second. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“Don’t be,” Mitch says, “but–” Auston’s face falls. “We– not right now, alright? We can– in the morning, okay?” 

Auston looks disappointed, but he nods, and he seems sleepy. Mitch goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get a glass of water, and when he comes back, Auston’s already out cold. Mitch climbs into the other bed and promises to handle this in the morning, because he can make this okay, he can handle this. 

The next morning he wakes up and Auston’s not there. There’s a cup of coffee on his nightstand, and there’s a note under the sleeve:  _ i’m sorry, pretend it didn’t happen?  _

Mitch rolls his eyes at that. 

* * *

**+1**

Auston does an excellent job of avoiding Mitch the next day, so Mitch takes matters into his own hands the day after, before morning skate in Detroit. He knocks on Auston’s door, knowing Brownie isn’t around, because he texted ahead to make sure. 

“Oh–” Auston says, when he opens the door and sees Mitch holding two cups of coffee. “Hi, I– uh, come in,” he says, and Mitch does. 

“I brought you coffee,” he says, holding out a cup to Auston. “Sorry to steal your thunder.” 

“I would’ve brought it,” Auston says, looking at his feet. “Listen, man, I’m sorry if– like, we don’t have to talk about this,” he says. “It’s fine if you– just– don’t–” He’s nervous, Mitch realizes, and– okay, yeah, he can’t really be mad at him for being scared about this. 

He can make it better, though. 

“Dude,” Mitch says. “It’s fine. I promise.”

“I mean– that I’m– like, that I kissed you?” Auston says. “That I like guys,” he says, a second later. 

“Yes,” Mitch says. 

“To which?” Auston asks. 

“Both. Dude, it’s– we should talk about it. I meant it when I said that.” 

“Alright,” Auston says. “Uh, what do you want to talk about?” 

“Well, you kissed me,” Mitch says, “and you were pretty drunk.” 

“I was,” Auston says. 

“So were you– I dunno. Why did you do that?” 

Auston stares at him like he has two heads. “I– I thought you would have guessed,” Auston says. 

“People kiss other people for plenty of reasons,” Mitch says. 

“I– I dunno,” Auston says. “You were– I was happy, and you were being really sweet, and I just– ugh,” he groans, and he falls back on the bed. He throws his arm over his eyes and says, “I like you, alright?” 

“You like me,” Mitch says, and, yeah, it’s a good thing they’re talking. 

“Yep,” Auston replies. “Like– I dunno. I figured– with everything, and then with me kissing you, that you would– yeah.”

“Dude,” Mitch says, and he’s a little bit in awe, and maybe it’s not the perfect thing to say, because Auston groans again. 

“I know, it’s not– it’s cool, okay? I can just– yeah, this is good, this is fine,” he says, sitting back up. “It’s good. Closure, whatever. Right. So, I, uh, like you,” Auston says. “And like– I dunno. Do what you want with that.” 

“I– so what, are you asking me out?” Mitch says. 

Auston shrugs. “Effectively, yeah.”

“Okay. Well, then, uh. Yes?” Mitch says. 

Auston does a double take at that. “You– what?” He says. 

“You’re asking me out, and I’m saying yes. We should go on a date,” Mitch says. 

“You’re– man,” Auston says. “Are you fucking with me?” 

“Nope,” Mitch says plainly. “You’re into me, I’m into you, we should date. It’s pretty simple.”

“You’re into me? Since when?” Auston says, sounding surprised but not unhappy. 

“I don’t know, man. Probably a while,” Mitch says. “Like, you’re good looking, and really... nice?” 

“Was it the coffee?” Auston asks.

“Maybe a little bit,” Mitch says, and he smiles. 

“I still don’t believe you’re not fucking with me,” Auston says. 

“Well, if I kissed you, would that change your mind?” Mitch asks, and Auston blinks, and Mitch takes it as his cue to lean in. 

It’s a really, really good kiss, and Auston’s lips feel good beneath his, and when Mitch pulls away, he and Auston both subconsciously put their hands to their mouths. Mitch giggles. 

“Alright, I believe you,” Auston says.

“Damn right you do,” Mitch responds, and they’re both smiling when he leans back in to kiss Auston again. 

Auston’s mouth tastes like coffee. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! It's Mitch's birthday today, and I hope in-universe Auston brings him coffee 
> 
> Let me know if there's anything you think should be tagged <3


End file.
